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a hand to hold onto

When she is suddenly appointed the guardian of her sister’s three children, Lexa -flustered and completely inexperienced- has to find somebody to rent the spare room in their house. Enter Clarke, a ramshackle, kind hearted pediatric resident who immediately becomes the heart of their small household. Sometimes family can be found in the most unexpected places.

ft. three sweet but exasperating children, stressed out mess Lexa and hopeless romantic Clarke.

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1/10, 5.4k words. 

She wakes to laughter, voices shrieking distantly and the mindless babble of the television floating in through her cracked bedroom door. Slowly, groaning as she does so, she stretches a hand out from beneath the lump of the comforter and gropes for her phone on the nightstand. Blind fingers touch the corner of her radio, the discarded notes from yesterday’s meetings before hooking around her glass of water. She jerks away too late, shooting from the bed as the glass topples to the side and empties its contents down the side of her nightstand and over her notes.

“Fuck!” She launches herself from the bed, grabbing at her notes pulling up her baggy pyjama shirt to dab at them ineffectively. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You’re not supposed to use that word Aunty Lexa.” The voice grabs her attention and she turns to see her niece stood in the doorway, dark hair rumpled, still in her pyjamas and clutching the ear of her stuffed bunny rabbit.

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